


Two

by IamShadow21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon Character of Color, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Double Drabble, Drabble, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Male Character of Color, POV Character of Color, POV First Person, POV Lee Jordan, POV Male Character, Polyamory, Post - Deathly Hallows, Post-Hogwarts, Threesome - M/M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-30
Updated: 2008-07-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:27:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamShadow21/pseuds/IamShadow21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little ficlet that crept up and attacked me while I was making risotto the other evening. Keep your tissues handy.

_I don’t want to come between you_ , I’d said, and they had snickered at the double entendre while winding themselves around me. 

After that, for a long time, everything in the universe revolved around base three. Impossible, you say. No such thing. People are designed for pairs; two and two they boarded the ark, and two and two they shall ever be.

Well, they never were much for conventions.

Three pillows, three chairs, three mugs, three plates. Three boys twisting themselves into an inextricable knot of limbs; panting and sweating and groaning. That the flat was tiny and the bed too small for comfort didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, except the _push-pull-thrust-touch-kiss-tease_ , the clumsy, whispered words of affection, spoken only in the dark, when we were all too shagged out and sleepy for it to be awkward.

Now, everything is different. The flat is cavernous; echoing with footsteps when it used to ring with laughter. The chair stays empty, untouched, and the bed is a wide plateau of linen, with a chasm in the middle of cold and empty air. Even with my arm outstretched, I doubt I could even brush him with the tips of my fingers, so far away is he.

Reduced to two, we wobble uncertainly, the gravitational pull between us unsteady, untested, the empty space between us aching and tingling like a missing limb. Even the dark is filled with nothing but silence.


End file.
